Aftermath of conflict in Georgia

The pawns of war

Georgia is resettling some, but not all, refugees

TEN months ago the fields around Tserovani were empty. Now they are the site of a whole town—complete with bungalows, health clinic, police station, schools and sports fields—for some 6,000 Georgians who fled their homes during last year's war with Russia.

Much-visited by diplomats and dignitaries, Tserovani, some 20km from Tbilisi, is an impressive sight. Yet it is a far cry from the life of most of those displaced by war in repeated rounds of turbulence since Georgia became independent in 1991.

The areas controlled by the Georgian government host about 30,000 people made homeless by last year's fighting over South Ossetia. (Others, predominantly ethnic Ossetians, sought refuge within South Ossetia or in Russia.) Of these, about 17,500 now live in new settlements like Tserovani, although none is as large, well-built or generously equipped. The rest live in renovated apartments or temporary accommodation, awaiting new homes.

Worse off, though, are many of the 220,000 or so people who fled earlier wars in Abkhazia and South Ossetia in the early 1990s. Just under half of them continue to live in dilapidated ex-Soviet buildings, such as disused hospitals, hotels and schools. Conditions are poor, and residents suffer much higher rates of depression and disease than the rest of the population. Many of them live in private accommodation, which can mean anything from squatting to owning property.

None of the older refugees received as much assistance as those displaced last year, though the government has promised to improve their lot. Since February, for example, contractors have been rehabilitating buildings in which they live and government lawyers have been transferring title deeds.

This is a change from the neglect that has characterised the lives of these displaced people for most of the past two decades. Take those who fled Abkhazia in the 1990s: successive administrations have insisted upon the principle of return rather than resettlement. Anything else, they reckoned, would be to accept ethnic cleansing. Besides, return would boost the numbers of ethnic Georgians in Abkhazia (before the war, Georgians outnumbered Abkhazians) and undermine the region's claim to independence. Last year Russia (but hardly anybody else) recognised the statehood of Abkhazia and South Ossetia.

Over the years the Abkhaz authorities allowed up to 45,000 people to return to the Gali region, which had been almost exclusively inhabited by ethnic Georgians. But conditions there remain precarious. Those returning have reported extortion, arbitrary arrest and even occasional kidnappings. And the return has been contentious. The Georgian government refers to returned people as “seasonal migrants”. Abkhazia, for its part, has not let Georgians go back to other areas.

As ever, civilian populations are the pawns of politicians; their movement and settlement is the continuation of war by other means.